


I want to do this for you

by Late_to_the_fandom



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a monumental jerk, M/M, Male Carrier, Mpreg, Stiles want to give Derek the ultimate gift, completely made up medical terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-11-06 03:52:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17932337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Late_to_the_fandom/pseuds/Late_to_the_fandom
Summary: “You must be delusional,” Derek deadpanned as he stood abruptly and stalked away indignantly to throw the broken shards of his cup in the garbage can.  “In what harebrained scenario of yours did you think I’d say yes to this?” His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at Stiles in disbelief. “Nothing good can come out of this and you know it.” He paced angrily, his hands fisting then uncurling as he tried to rein his emotions. He stopped suddenly, his glare piercing and his words cutting, “I would never let you use me like this.”





	1. Chapter 1

“You must be delusional,” Derek deadpanned as he stood abruptly and stalked away indignantly to throw the broken shards of his cup in the garbage can.  “In what harebrained scenario of yours did you think I’d say yes to this?” His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at Stiles in disbelief. “Nothing good can come out of this and you know it.” He paced angrily, his hands fisting then uncurling as he tried to rein his emotions. He stopped suddenly, his glare piercing and his words cutting, “I would _never_ let you use me like this.” 

 

Stiles was looking at him with shuttered, watery eyes, his expression clearly heartbroken. He rose slowly and walked to the door, his scent reeking of humiliation and the briny smell of tears. He spoke gently over his shoulder, “I’m sorry for having though you’d understand why I asked,” and left quietly, letting the door close with a snick behind him.  Derek heard his footfall recede, his heartbeat stuttering, then the sound of the jeep pulling away.   

 

Leaning against the wall, he let himself drop heavily to the floor and buried his hands in his hair. His mind was racing as he tried processing Stiles’ request but kept failing. The way the human left felt final and the thought that he had made irreparable damage weighed like rocks in the pit of his stomach. The sour, acrid taste of pain lingered in the room, making his wolf whine and claw with the need to fix the problem.

 

Unfortunately, Derek was not entirely certain it could be fixed or even if he wanted it to.      


	2. Chapter 2

_Stiles had learned he was a carrier during his yearly medical when he was fourteen years old. The news was met with a hefty dose of incredulity on Stiles' part and an equally hefty dose of joy from the Sheriff. Although not rare, male carriers were uncommon, and Stiles learned that it was a frequent occurrence in his family history. Which, okay, why was he just now learning it was a thing in the Stilinski family tree?_

_That evening the teen had locked himself in his room and had embarked on a research binge, reading everything he could on his rare condition. During the following week he visited numerous websites and multiple blogs and had gotten in touch with other young men in the same situation. Tentative friendships had been borne and new bonds had been created within the small community of male carriers of the west coast._

_Being gifted with the ability to bear children had not gone to Stiles' head. He had not felt the need to share his particular biology and had kept the information to himself all through high school and college years. He could have used it to his advantage to try and bag himself partners who wanted children, but he wanted to be liked for who he was, not what he could do. He had not forged lasting relationships with any of his romantic partners and his secret was kept safe._

_He graduated at the top of his class and, armed with his new diploma in Computer sciences, he had returned to Beacon Hills. He quickly settled in his new job as Webmaster for different local companies and moved out of his family home a few months later._

_He picked up where he left off and started getting together with the pack on their monthly movie night. He met with Lydia every Thursdays for lunch and was invited for dinner at Scott and Allison's every other week. He was happy and mostly content with his life. But on some nights, when his loneliness and his hormones played havoc with his emotions, he found himself wanting more. He recognized the feeling as deep-seated yearning, but he had yet to figure out what it related to._

_The particulars of his biology made it so that he had access to a plethora of doctors specializing in male carriers' health and he had voiced his concerns with his Ob Gyn during his last visit. He had left reassured that what he had been feeling was normal and it had a specific term: Pre-andro Reproductive State, or PRS._  
_Basically, his biological clock was ticking._


	3. Chapter 3

_After a long period of reflection, Stiles had decided that he was ready to become a father. He was in a good place in his life and had a great job that he liked plus he was financially stable and had the means to take care of a child on his own. He invested a lot of time into research and discussed things with his doctor and eventually decided on using donor sperm. It wasn't the direction he had imagined his life would take but he was nothing if not pragmatic. Realistically, he knew that having a child on his own was not ideal, but he also knew that being a gay male carrier made finding a partner that much more difficult. Paired with the fact that the local gay dating pool was rather negligible meant he had resigned himself to being single for the foreseeable future._

_The sheriff had become emotional upon hearing the news, then had promptly switched hats and had interrogated his son until he was satisfied that he had done his homework and was not simply off on one of his wild tangents. That evening had ended with both of them a lot tipsier than they had planned but elated at the prospect of this new life they were planning._

_-o-o-_

_Stiles had kept his condition secret from everyone originally because he feared rejection, then later because it was not any of their business. He had recently had a change of heart and had come to feel the need to tell his friends, his pack, to explain his decision and to make sure that they would support him before he embarked on this unique adventure._

_The opportunity to tell them presented itself during the next movie night and armed with newfound resolve, he waited until dinner had been cleared and everyone was lounging in the family room to impart the details of his uniqueness. His recounting had been a bit hesitant in the beginning as he did not know what his packmates' reactions would be, but he was soon answering question, their interest genuine. He never once felt negativity from anyone and he was openly crying once things had quieted down. He jokingly said that it had been way harder than his gay coming out had been which had earned him a slap upside the head from Allison followed by then tightest hug he’d ever received from a human._

_Later that evening, once the movie had ended and the house had been righted from the tornado of having too many adults in the same space, everyone had slowly trickled out. Stiles stayed behind, a habit he’d picked up when he came back from college when the need to reconnect with the Alpha, taking a few minutes to fill the dishwasher with the remaining dirty dishes while Derek went outside to dispose of the empty pizza boxes. He busied himself by preparing coffee, perching himself on a bar stool once both cups were filled. Derek came back in, squeezing his neck as he passed him and settled in the seat facing his. They chatted a bit, Derek asking questions that were more insightful and personal, caring about the logistics and his frame of mind regarding the whole process._

_Stiles examined his friend, knowing how changed he was, how much he’d grown in the last years and he made a decision right then and there that he hoped would not be rejected. He steeled himself, nervously swallowing the lump that was in his throat and took a steadying breath. “Hey, I have something to ask and I need you to hear me out,” His voice croaked a bit and he cleared his throat before continuing, ”as I explained, I have opted to go through a sperm bank since I have a seemingly terminal case of single-itis.” Derek snorted in his cup but nodded, indicating he could continue. “I have not yet started any procedures, but I really took the time to think long and hard about this whole crazy idea. I know how you miss your family, how important pack is, and I was wondering if you would consider being my donor?”_

_Stiles looked at Derek earnestly, his large eyes filled with as much apprehension as hope. The alpha was paralyzed, his own eyes wild and utterly gobsmacked. Stiles felt an incoming surge of panic at the play of emotion on his friend’s face. “I’m not asking for anything else apart from that. I am not and will never be asking for financial or physical help, but I would let you have a relation ship with this child, however you want or need. This would be me growing the pack by adding a cub, your cub. I know you’d be fantastic at whatever role you decided to play in this child’s life. Step-father, uncle, friend, mentor. We could even arrange for joint custody if you want.” He asked almost beseechingly._

_Derek just kept on staring stonily until the cup in his hand cracked and hot liquid ran off the tabletop and dripped on the ceramic tiles._


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles felt disjointed, unable to align the thoughts tumbling in his head with the feelings amassing in his heart.

 

He had not thought that Derek's rejection would have been so cutting, so wounding. His breath was still coming in rattling breaths as he rocked himself back in forth hoping to suppress the impending panic attack he felt building in his guts. He managed to hold it back long enough for his father to return home after his shift, only letting the flimsy hold on his emotions go the moment he heard the door open.

 

He sat rigidly on the couch, wailing and keening while overwhelming sorrow engulfed him as tears flowed uncontrollably down his face. He felt the sheriff's concerned exclamation then strong arms embracing him. He did not know how long they sat, how long it took for his dad to bring him down until he fell asleep, wrapped in a thick blanket with his head in his father's lap.

 

John reclined in his seat, carding his fingers in Stiles' hair while he watched him sleep off his panic attack. He did not have all the details, but he was fairly certain it must have been something huge to affect his son in this way. He rubbed the pads of his fingers along Stiles' scalp for almost half an hour before gently sliding from beneath him and laying his head on a pillow. He rearranged the blanket before kissing his forehead softly then went to take a shower before fixing himself a sandwich for dinner.

 

He settled in the recliner with his food and turned on the tv, keeping watch until it was time for him to get to bed in case his son woke up in more distress. The toilet flushing woke him sometime in the early morning and he listened as Stiles puttered around for a few minutes then the house fell silent again. He fell back asleep with a heavy heart, hoping things would be okay with his only child.  

 

-o-o-

 

When he woke up again a few hours later it was to the smell of pancakes and sizzling bacon making his stomach grumble. He went to relieve himself then trudged to the kitchen where a cup of coffee sat waiting on the table. He passed by Stiles and ruffled his hair, nabbing a piece of bacon from the pan before sitting at his usual place. Stiles would talk when he was ready, so he checked the news on his tablet while he waited for the food to be done. A plate was placed in front of him within minutes and Stiles sat opposite him with his own food. They ate in silence until he’d cleaned his plate then sat back in his chair, looking expectantly at his son who was obviously ignoring him. He occupied his time on the internet until Stiles started to clear the table, getting up to wash the pans once he’d filled the dishwasher.

 

He let a few minutes trickle by then initiated the discussion since it was obviously not in Stiles’ plan to do so. “Care to tell me what’s going on?” Stiles sighed deeply, shrugging as he put the pans away. He then refilled his cup and sat back down. The Sheriff followed suit and waited patiently while he organized his thoughts. “Long story short, I asked Derek if he wanted to be my donor. He did not take it well, accusing me of wanting to use him.” His voice broke on the last few words and he swallowed thickly, blinking the tears from his eyes as he tried to maintain his thinly controlled emotions in check.

 

“I only wanted to- to give him a little bit of family back, and he-“ He hiccuped, openly crying now, ”he just looked at me like- like I was the lowest form of life on the face of the p-planet.” The Sheriff got up and kneeled in front of him, pulling him into his chest as he sobbed. Stiles’ hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt as he let himself release the anguish plaguing him. He eventually quieted down, and they moved to the living room where they both ended up on the couch, his arm slung over Stiles’ shoulders as they snuggled under a throw while watching reruns of Cake Boss.  

 

The Sheriff seldom felt ill-equipped to deal with any given situation, but he wished his wife was still around to offer guidance. She would know just what to say, how to appease his son’s bruised heart, how to settle his mind. He thought long and hard and tried imagining how she would approach the issue at hand. His words were soft when he started talking.

 

“I can’t say I know what you’re going through, kiddo. I don’t, and I will never know because my body is different. I understand your need, how your biology has led you this far and I admire how intelligently you undertook the research needed instead of running in blind and then facing the consequences afterwards.  I know Derek’s reaction has wounded you, how his rejection of this immeasurable gift has hurt you in ways you could not have anticipated.” He felt Stiles head bob slightly in a nod. “I know this may be difficult, but I think you need to take a step back,” he felt Stiles bristle indignantly and he shushed him, “not right this minute, but in a few days. You need to put yourself in his place and try to see it from his perspective. Derek would never voluntarily hurt you which makes me think there could be an explanation behind his reaction.”

 

Stiles disentangled himself from the blanket and sat up frowning, obviously wanting to argue. The Sheriff sighed and raised a hand placatingly. “I think you need to take a break from all this. Uncle Mike will be home for the next month, would you like me to call him to see if he’d mind you spending some time with him?” Stiles acquiesced. Being away was not a bad idea. At least he’d get distance and he would benefit from occupying his mind with uncle Mike’s weird habits.

 

The thought of his uncle’s handlebar moustache and his mismatched socks, his collection of bowties and his vintage motorcycle had him suddenly crave his company. “I think that would actually be good. I miss his craziness. Can you call him and ask if it's okay that I visit him?” The Sheriff nodded and picked up his phone from the end table just as Stiles stood. “I’ll go and pack bag. If I leave within the next half hour I‘ll be there just in time  for dinner.”


	5. Chapter 5

Derek had not seen nor heard from Stiles in the last twenty-seven days.

Of course he was counting.

 

He was well aware that he had not handled Stiles with the care and consideration he deserved. His betas, although they had no knowledge of what had transpired, had called him out on the lack of Stiles and his subsequent flares of bad temper. They pronounced him a moronic imbecile and urged him, in no uncertain terms, to fix things with the human. They had made their displeasure known, not showing up for pack nights and ignoring his texts unless it was a supernatural fueled emergency.

 

None of them had been forthcoming with information on Stiles’ whereabouts and when confronted they had only been able to say he was away for an undisclosed period of time. It irked him that their hearts hadn’t stuttered because it meant they did not know where he was either. He had effectively been shunned by his own pack and, although it was warranted, the rebuke stung. The whole situation had stretched the pack bond thin and the disconnect he was feeling was making him uncomfortable, the undercurrent of uneasiness making his wolf restless and he knew he had to figure out how to right this wrong before it tore them apart.

 

The only person who knew where Stiles had disappeared to was the Sheriff and the prospect of confronting the man was daunting and frankly scary.  Even though they had forged an alliance and had become friendly acquaintances, he knew the man would not hesitate to use wolfsbane bullets on his furry ass if he felt his only son had been slighted. Which he had. The only option left was to meet the man. He grabbed his phone from the counter and paced while he dialed the station then waited to be connected to the Sheriff.

 

 

-o-o-

 

John had accepted to meet him for lunch at the diner and they were now seated in a booth in the farthest corner from the door. Derek had arrived a few minutes early and had been trying to organize his thoughts when the Sheriff sat in front of him, a small smile on his tired face.  He sat straighter, nerves jittery as he spoke first. “Thank you for accepting to see me. I’m not sure what Stiles told you, but I need to know he’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. I know I fucked up, but I want to fix it.” John was about to reply but they were interrupted by the waitress. He picked up when she left with their order.

 

“You really hurt him, Derek. My son is impulsive and brash, and he can be annoying as hell, but one thing he does very well is care deeply about the people who are important to him. He will move heaven and earth if needed for his loved ones. He is ridiculously selfless, to a point that he puts everyone else before himself. He offered you the ultimate gift, the one thing that no one else can. He offered you a child, your child, your blood pack. And you accused him of something devious, Derek. How could you ever think he would do this to use you?” He stared fixedly at him as he sipped his water but there was no trace of anger in his eyes. Still it made him squirm in his chair because he truly would be justified in ripping his head off.     

 

The fact that he was clearly disappointed in his actions strengthened his resolve and made his mind up for him. His eyes were probably bleeding Alpha red when he looked up from staring at the tabletop and the Sheriff held his gaze for a few seconds then nodded sharply. “Stiles told me his version of what happened. Now I want yours so start talking.”

 

And he did. He started with the events leading to the fire and words spewed forth for almost an hour, only interrupted by their food arriving. He talked and talked and talked, using his words like he hadn’t done for the better part of a decade. The more he spoke the less weight he felt pressing down on his soul. When he got to the end the Sheriff’s blue eyes were soft and tear filled as they stared at each other in silence. The moment stretched on until he stood and pulled him into an embrace that had him sigh in relief. John slapped his back a few times then sat back in his chair.    

 

His voice was gruff when he spoke, and he knew then that he was forgiven. “Son, I’m deeply sorry you had to go through all that. I still think you could have handled things differently with Stiles, but I get where you come from. Now, I’m about to break the father/son bond but it’s for a good cause.” His smile was a bit crooked and the twinkle in his eye had him wondering what secrets he was about to divulge. He was not prepared for the affirmation that spilled from the Sheriff’s lips and he choked on the mouthful of coffee he was about to swallow.

 

“So, Stiles has been in love with you for quite a while and although he never said a word, it’s evident in the way he speaks about you and the looks he sends your way when your back is turned. He’s a hopeless romantic surrounded by a thick sarcastic protective shell,“ He forked up a piece of  pie and chewed it down before continuing, “now, from what I garnered, and don’t try pretending to the contrary, I’m not the Sheriff for nothing,  you’re also dealing with similar feelings for him.” Derek nodded, eyes wide with shock at how perceptive the man was. “There are a few things you will need to do in order to get back into his good graces.” He paused and took a sip of his coffee, adding cream before taking a second one, then set the cup on its saucer.

 

“There needs to be groveling. And I mean a LOT of groveling.  And flowers. You’d never guess but he’s a sucker for exotic flowers and foliage, things like plumeria and ginger. He’s been staying with my brother in San Francisco and I suggest you surprise him there. Oh! and bring chocolate, or better yet get bananas and a chocolate fountain….“ Derek listened as the Sheriff plotted and planned how best to present his apology. The man was surprisingly insightful, leaving Derek with an address and a list of ideas as long as his arm. Derek paid for their meal and they parted with a handshake and an invitation to the next Stilinski barbecue.      


	6. Chapter 6

Michael Stilinski was exactly what Stiles had needed. The man was a few years older than his dad, but he’d always felt a deep connection with him, the type forged by mutual understanding and similar circumstances. Uncle Mike was out and proud and he had made Stiles feel accepted and understood when he dealt with the conflicting emotions of discovering his bisexuality. The fact that he was an oddball in his own right made living with him an adventure and it was what had helped him get through the last month.

 

Uncle Mike was unpredictable but surprisingly constant. He was comfortable in his own skin in a way that was both refreshing and illuminating, making Stiles feel welcomed and loved. Stiles fit right into his life, as though he’d always had a space there. He had given him an abridged version for the reason of his visit upon his arrival and that had been that. Michael had not pressed for more information although he was certain that his dad had probably recounted the whole ordeal already. The man lived in a quaint craftsman house furnished with eclectic pieces that complemented his larger than life personality and he’d had a room ready for him in a matter of minutes. They had since developed a camaraderie and he had been able to slowly let go of the pain that had followed him from Beacon Hills.

 

Luckily, his job as a webmaster permitted him to work from anywhere in the world so he had picked up his workload after taking a few days off. The mornings were dedicated to his contracts then they would spend the afternoons enjoying life. They visited museums and galleries, went to Fisherman’s Wharf, spent time lazing at the beach or went to the movies. On the weekends they would have diner with some of Mike’s friends or they would stay in and catch up on whatever series were lined up on Netflix.    

 

Stiles knew he would need to return home eventually, but the prospect was daunting. He was not ready to face real life quite yet. He had cut off almost all communications with the pack, sending an email to Scott occasionally to confirm he was still alive, and he spoke with his dad a few times a week, but they never broached the subject of when he’d come back, and he was fine with that. Hiding out in San Francisco was not the most mature thing to do but he needed more time to lick his wounds, to reassess his priorities.

 

Which, yeah. He really did not want to be thinking about that right now, but uncle Mike was going out on a date and he needed to find something to occupy his mind for the rest of the evening. Which is why he was now sprawled out on the couch, flipping through channels trying to find something to watch while waiting for the pizza he’d ordered to arrive. Michael was still hiding in his room finishing getting ready for his diner when there was a knock at the door.  

 

He checked the time, figuring it couldn’t be the delivery person and yelled, “Uncle Mike, your date’s here!” as he got up to answer. His stomach plummeted, his body instantly drenched in cold sweat the moment he got the door open. He stood mouth agape and eyes wide as his brain scrambled to make sense of the fact that Derek stood on the stoop. They stared silently at each other, neither moving, Derek’s cheeks flushing pink as his eyes flickered from green to red to green again.

 

There was a sudden flurry of activity around them when a voice cleared behind Derek just as his uncle entered the living room. In a well choreographed sequence of movements, Michael slipped past him and exited the house, greeting his date as he pulled him by the sleeve of his jacket and yelling over his shoulder, ”Your pizza’s here”, as they rushed down the walkway. He saw his uncle slip a few bills to the delivery man who trudged up to the porch, handed the box to Derek and jogged back to his car. They were both speechless as they gaped back toward the street where two cars sped away from the curb in opposite directions. Derek turned, an expectant gleam in his eyes as he waited for him to say something.           

 

The feeling of being a deer in headlights was overwhelming as he glanced back at Derek. The Alpha passed him the pizza and softly broke the silence. “Can we talk?” He sighed and turned on his heel, making his way to the kitchen where he deposited the box on the counter. He heard the door close and Derek’s steps getting nearer until he stood before the island, fidgeting nervously. Setting out a plate for himself, he retrieved scissors from the drawer and cut a big slice from the pie then grabbed a can of cola before he sat on a stool to eat. If Derek wanted to talk, he damned well would be the one to break the silence. He was a stubborn ass after all.

 

-o-o-

Derek’s brow furrowed, his shoulders slumping when he realized that Stiles was, in all intents and purposes, ignoring him. He pinched the bridge of his nose.  This was not going how he would have liked but he had not been thrown out and he counted that as a plus. Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, he uttered, “I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Stiles glanced at him, his expression unreadable. He swallowed thickly, the clicking sound loud in his head, then continued. “I want to explain and I’m asking you to give me a chance to do so. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, just that you hear me out.” Stiles was still looking at him with his blank, poker face on and it was disquieting.

 

He had expected him to rant and rave, to explode in flailing movements, to react in any way at all.  Instead he was eating his meal with precise, almost calculated movements and had not pronounced a word. And it was so far from his usual boisterous personality it was painful to watch. He was clearly restraining himself from reacting and he ground his teeth just, so he wouldn’t snarl at him to just snap out of it and act normal. He remembered that this was his fault, breathed deeply and tried again. “I would like to take you somewhere, so we can talk. Not right now, but tomorrow. If you’re okay with it. Please?”

 

Stiles took a few seconds to chew and swallow the bite he'd just taken and nodded. "Okay." He sighed minutely, relief washing over him and nodded. "Okay. Can I text you later, so we can arrange how to do this?"  Stiles bobbed his head and hope flooded his system. "Okay. I'll let myself out." He turned to leave, hesitating in the doorjamb as he mumbled, "Thank you for doing this," then he walked away.    

 


	7. Chapter 7

Derek closed the door quietly behind himself and breathed in relief. All the tension that had cramped his shoulders drained out as he walked towards his SUV. He was secretly pleased that Stiles had agreed to meet him, but nothing was certain at this point and the fact that things could still go to hell was sobering. He got into the driver’s seat and leaned back against the head rest while he organised his thoughts. There were a few things he needed to set up still and he had yet to book a hotel room, so he put the car in gear and drove off, a myriad of plans and ideas bouncing around his brain.

 

-o-o-

 

It was a quarter past nine when he slotted his hotel key in the door lock and entered the room.  After leaving Stiles he’d ran a few errands and made a few purchases before his stomach rumbled enough for him to remember that the last meal he had consumed was breakfast. He stopped at a fast-food joint’s drive-trough on the way to the hotel and was now sitting Indian style in the middle of the bed with a burger in hand, chewing contentedly while watching a documentary on tv. He felt equal parts anxious and excited and he ardently hoped that Stiles would be receptive to his obsequious behavior. There was a lot of work needed to put things to rights but he found solace in the fact that Stiles wasn’t one to hold a grudge. The human’s better quality was his fairness and his ability to take a step back to think and analyze before judging a situation. Hopefully this would extend to him and he would be able to make Stiles see his grovelling for what it was: a plea of repentance and, ultimately, of acceptance.    

 

When all the remains and wrappings of his meal had been trashed he sat back against the headboard and unlocked his phone. He was nervous, but he sent Stiles a short text and waited for a reply. It came in a few minutes later and he smiled in relief.

 

_-Sourwolf : Hi. Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I’d like to go somewhere where we can talk with no distractions._

_-Annoying human : Okay. Can I meet you there?_

_-Sourwolf : Would you be opposed to me picking you up? I understand if you prefer to have your own car in case you want to leave….._

 

There was a pause that stretched a bit longer than he was comfortable with between his last text and Stiles’ reply. He released a breath he had not noticed he’d been holding when it came in.

 

_-Annoying Human : It’s fine, I guess. As long as you’re not planning anything funny. I know how to defend myself ;)_

 

A broken laugh escaped his throat at Stiles’ use of a winky-face. It had longing churn in his guts. He missed the teasing and the bantering between them, the way their friendship was easy and comfortable.    

 

_-Sourwolf : Thank you for trusting me. I’ll be there around 2._

_-Sourwolf : please wear comfortable shoes!_

_-Annoying human : ok._

 

 

He dropped his phone on the mattress and stretched out in the middle of the bed. Weariness had been eating away at him for the last month and he felt leaden with the weigh of the guilt he had been carrying around. He fell asleep slowly, content with the outcome of the day’s events.   

 

-o-o-

 

To say he was excited was a euphemism. His wolf had been yipping and gallivanting in his head all morning and had only given him a short break around lunch time. He was now feeling antsy and nervous, his wolf whining softly plaintively as they drove to pick Stiles up.

 

He glanced at the flowers on the passenger seat and hoped he’d made the right decision. The Sheriff had been a great ally in this endeavor, but he wouldn’t hesitate to say it was all his idea if Stiles didn’t like them. The man wasn’t there to defend himself after all. He arrived at the other Stilinski household a few minutes after two and parked on the street. He gathered his wits as he went to grab his gift then walked up the path. Stiles must have been looking out for his arrival because the door opened before he’d made it to the porch. A short glance was exchanged before the human zoomed in on the arrangement he was holding. Stiles eyes flicked up to his in surprise, then back down, a soft smile on his lips.

 

“Hi. I, ah… got these… for you.“ He handed Stiles the flowers and shuffled a bit uncomfortably on the stoop. “A reliable source told me you liked tropical flowers,“ he grinned sheepishly, his ears burning a bit at the confession and continued, “but I thought you might enjoy synthetic ones as they last longer. I mean, with all the composting and recycling you do, it made sense.”   

 

Stiles was still smiling, and he counted it as a win. The human nodded as he walked deeper in the house and set them on the coffee table. “Thank you. You made a good call, they look really natural.” He grabbed his keys as he walked back to the door which he locked behind himself. They got settled in the car and drove off in silence. It was slightly uncomfortable in the but knowing Stiles’ curiosity was probably eating him alive had him waiting a bit more to see if he’d break the quietness, which he did after a few minutes. “So, where are we going exactly?”

 

He laughed softly which resulted in flustering Stiles. “Yeah, sorry… you know me and my need to know everything. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” He babbled. “Unless you want to tell me. If it’s the case then, please do. I really hate not knowing.” He shushed him by raising an eyebrow. “I want it to be a surprise. We’ll be there soon so be patient.” The human snorted as his hands flailed like hummingbirds, “Do you know me at all?”   


	8. Chapter 8

Apprehension had collected under his breastbone the moment Derek had show up on the door step the day before and he’d since been unable to rid himself of the uneasiness that it generated. He’d gotten enough sleep to function as a normal human being and had completed most of the workload he had assigned himself for the day and had even managed to schedule four meetings with potential new customers for the rest of the week.  He was standing at the kitchen bar, a leg constantly bouncing as he chewed on a sandwich that tasted like cardboard. He wondered for the hundredth time if he should text Derek to cancel but his curiosity prevented him from doing so.  As uncomfortable as he was, his need to hear what Derek had to say won and that’s why he was trying to pass the time by eating food he was unable to taste.

 

By the time he’d put his plate in the dishwasher he had less than ten minutes to spare. Grabbing his keys from the counter, he made his way to the entry way and shoved his feet in his Converse, then fiddled with his phone until Derek’s SUV stopped in front of the house.  He watched as Derek gracefully walked around the hood to the passenger side to pick up a flower arrangement before making his way up the walk. He opened the door and waited on the door step, a small smile stretching his lips when he recognized the flowers.

 

-o-o-

 

He was sitting in Derek’s vehicle a few minutes later in somewhat comfortable silence, his thoughts bouncing around his head trying to figure out where they were going. Derek was being his cryptic self and it grated his nerves, but he kept his mouth shut for the duration of the drive. They eventually arrived at the San Francisco Botanical Gardens where Derek parked the SUV and looked at him expectantly. He did not know what to make of this development and the first words out of his mouth made that abundantly clear. “What are we doing here? Better yet, _why_ are we here?” Derek raised an eyebrow and got out of the car, so he did the same, scrambling to follow him as he made his way to the entrance.

 

“There is a temporary exhibit that I’m certain you’ll be interested in seeing.” He pulled the door and motioned for him to go through then pulled out his wallet to pay for their tickets once they got to the counter. He looked at the board announcing the events and his eyes grew wide when he read _Plants and flowers in myths and lore,_ figuring out why they had come here instead of going to the local park for a stroll. “No way…” he gaped in Derek’s direction, “this is so cool!” The man smirked, but Stiles ignored him as he pushed the door to the greenhouse holding the exposition.

 

He hadn’t felt this excited in a long time and he let himself enjoy the feeling. “I can’t believe they made an entire show around the different plants that can harm you guys!” He heard Derek snort behind him as he made his way to the first plant showcased. He lost track of time as he walked the pathways, learning about the uses of mountain ash and aconite, how holly had been used against vampires and how sage was still used today to ward off evil spirits. He used his phone to take a multitude of photos and notes with the intent to add everything to the bestiary.  He’d pretty much ignored the Alpha for most of the afternoon, only noticing he was still beside him when he asked a question or commented on something along the way.

 

It was late afternoon when they eventually exited the building and he glanced in Derek’s direction, realizing they had not yet broached the subject of why they were there. Derek must have come to the same conclusion as he addressed it first. “There is a small café in the tropical gardens, we could talk there, if that’s okay?”  He nodded and let him lead the way. They made small talk as they walked but it felt stilted and lacked the usual snark and teasing, both of them aware that the other felt the same way. He missed how easy things had been merely a month ago, and he honestly hated how guarded he felt, how a part of him screamed _it’s Derek, loosen up_ only to be trampled by the part that was still hurt and angry.

    

He glanced at Derek to find him frowning, his head down and the line of his shoulders tense. His voice was gravely when he finally spoke. “I’ve spent days trying to come up with the right words and I’ve been unsuccessful because there are none. I wish I could go back to that moment and redo everything. I’d start by thanking you.“ He glanced at him quickly. “I’d take the time to really let your request sink in, to understand why you offered this to me.”

 

An angry snort escaped before he could hold himself in check, the harshness of his words echoing the sentiment. “Yeah, well you can’t.” Derek’s expression was pained, and he kept walking in silence. He steered them toward a bench shadowed by palm trees where he took a seat, forearms braced on his knees and eyes trained on the gravel path. “I know. I regret how I handled things.” He stayed standing, there was too much energy running in his body to sit so he stuck his hands in his pockets and waited for him to push on.

 

Derek struggled a bit but managed to find what he wanted to say. “I’ve always wanted children. I used to want at least four cubs, so they would always have someone to play with. Now I can’t even imagine having even one child. Everyone dies around me Stiles!” He hiccupped, tears forming along his dark lashes. “I’m always watching my back, always expecting that some thing bad will happen to any of you guys.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, barely noticing he’d started crying, and took a moment to get himself settled. “There a part of me that yearns for a family, for that blood link that unites us but I’m terrified. I barely survived the first time, I would not make it through if something were to happen again.” 

 

He sat beside Derek as the tears burst from the Alpha’s eyes and laid a had on his neck, offering support. There were no words that could fix this, so he kept silent.  They sat that way for a moment, until emotions were calmed enough that Derek could continue. “I’ve been broken for a while. I’m defective in too many ways and I panicked. I didn’t know how to deal with the ball of fear laced longing that burned in my guts and I took it out on you and I’m so, so sorry.” His voice broke on the last words and he just slumped in complete misery.

 

They did not speak for a long moment, Derek obviously submerged by his memories and he wondered what he could say that hadn’t already be said a thousand times.  He sighed and murmured, ”I’d like to go home now.” The Alpha rubbed his face a few times and breathed deeply before standing up. “Yeah, of course.” His mind raced as they made their way back to the car, unable to settle his warring emotions. He was thorn with the need to comfort his friends and the indignation still strongly present in his guts.  

 

The drive back to uncle Mike’s was tense, Derek’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel too hard. He knew he should say something, but he waited until they were parked in front of the house. Staring out the windshield he chose his words carefully. “I was hurt for a long while, hell, I still am, but the pain was eventually replaced by anger and that runs a lot deeper. I don’t now that I’m ready to let go of it. I understand what you’re saying but the fact that your first reaction was to accuse me of wanting to use you is what wounds me the most. It doesn’t matter that you were scared or that you panicked, the fact that your gut reaction was to blame me for shortcomings that are clearly not my own is so far from being okay. I feel betrayed, Derek. You clearly don’t know me at all if you think I’d stoop that low.”   

 

He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, “Thank you for the flowers, I really like them. Also, good call on that exhibition. I learned a lot and I’ll update our records this weekend.” He was about to exit the car, but he added one last thing. ”For the record, you’re not broken or defective. You’re just a bit damaged, like all of us. The difference is that you let it dictate you and it controls you with fear. You need to understand that you can break free of its hold on you if you really want to stop living in the past. Talk to Deaton, he knows people who can help.” With that he got to his feet and slammed the door as he walked up to the house and disappeared behind the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took liberties with the botanical garden. From the little research I did , there are no cafés on the grounds and I don't think they hold special expositions. I don't even think there are greenhouses :)


	9. Chapter 9

He’d stared at the house a few minutes after Stiles had closed the door then pulled away from the curb, relief and hope filling his heart. The afternoon had gone better than he had expected even though his expectations had been fairly low to begin with. The fact that Stiles had been open to meeting with him boosted his resolve to prove that he was not a bastard.  

 

He’d had dinner in the hotel’s restaurant before heading up to his room where he was now reclining against the head board, channel surfing idly. His head felt leaden and his sinuses hurt from crying but he was still too keyed up to relax and turn his brain off to sleep. He kept thinking about Stiles, how he had seemed happy with the exposition but had remained guarded, his body always tense, and it tore at his soul, making his wolf whine every time a shadow of doubt veiled his eyes.  

 

Stiles had closed off completely after his apological explanation and had been uncommonly motionless and quiet on the drive back, staring out the window in silence. It had irritated his wolf, hell, it irritated the human part of him as well and it left an ashy taste in his mouth. Stiles’ large personality should never be reduced to stillness and the responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders. He blamed himself, but the past could not be changed so he’d do is best to glue back the pieces of their relationship.

 

Grabbing his phone from the mess of bedding, he sent him a quick email, an unanswered question troubling him.

 

 _-Sourwolf:_ _One day, if you ever find it in yourself to forgive me, will you tell me why me?_

He did not expect a reply and he was surprised when he saw the three little dots indicating that Stiles was typing.

 

_-Annoying human: You are the strongest person I know._

_-Annoying human: You’re intelligent and fair and you do what needs to be done, even if it’s the hardest thing to do._

_-Annoying human: You care._

_-Annoying human: About every damn thing._

 

To say he was speechless was a euphemism. He stared at the small screen, brow furrowed as he sucked at his straw, swallowing big gulps of his drink. Then a fifth text came in and he choked, cola spewing from his nose to run down his chin and splatter on his chest.    

 

_-Annoying human: All of that is contained in a pretty packaging._

 

In shock, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, a snort escaping his throat in disbelief. It was immediately followed by a surprising fit of giggles that left him in tears and with aching cheeks. Eventually, he calmed down enough to send a short reply.

 

_-Sourwolf: What? Dude, my drink just came out my nose…_

He felt unbelievably stupid and hot with embarrassment. How had he missed that Stiles found him attractive? 

 

_-Annoying human: It is what it is._

 

_-Sourwolf: You’re serious?_

 

_-Annoying human: Yep._

 

He could hear Stiles voice popping the P in his head and it made him grin. The small boost of confidence this provided felt really good, more than it should considering the current state of things between them. He laid down, hands laced behind his head as he digested the tidbit of information. Sleep claimed him slowly and he let himself be dragged down, sporting a wet, sticky t-shirt and a soft smile.   


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek grovels.  
> That's it.

It was almost two weeks later that Stiles sent an email to the pack stating he was coming home. After a lengthy discussion with uncle Mike and realizing that it was no use hiding anymore, Derek knew where he was after all, he packed up his things and drove up north. He did not show up for any pack meetings, but he did arrange to see everyone separately or in group outings. There were lunches and dinner dates, movies and bowling and whatnot and they pretty much picked up where they left off.

 

The only person he did not see was Derek, but they maintained tentative contact via texts.

 

Weeks stretched into months and Derek kept things light between them, making sure Stiles knew he was available without pushing it. A few weeks ago, a client had given him a pair of tickets to a Giants game. The Mets were the visiting team and, knowing how much Stiles loved them, he’d gifted them to him and his dad. The Stilinskis had been ecstatic and there had even been a few selfies shared on social media. When Isaac had shown Derek photos from Stiles’ feed, he had been inordinately pleased with the human’s happy smile.  

 

-o-o-

 

Derek had had the time to do a lot of soul searching during those months.

 

One sunny morning he got up and decided then and there that it was time to seek help. He contacted Deaton, finding courage between two cups of strong coffee, and he had an appointment scheduled with a psychologist specializing in shifters within the hour. He was fearful but giddy and he sent a short text to Stiles. The reply he got had him ugly crying

(snotty nose and puffy eyes included), but it had him feeling liberated and free.

_-Annoying human:  I am really proud of you_   

 

-o-o-

 

After a few sessions with the specialist Derek was tasked with a daunting homework. He though deep and hard how he wanted to go about it, then decided on a group text to the pack. His message was succinct, he was dealing with young adults raised on abbreviations and texting lingo after all, but heart felt. He stared at his phone a few long seconds, took a deep breath and pressed send before he chickened out

 

_-Sourwolf: I’m not the most demonstrative or expressive but I’m working on it, on me. Just needed to say I love you guys._

For some reason, he wasn’t surprised that the first person to reply was Stiles. The warmth pooling in his chest wasn’t surprising either.

_-Annoying human: *roll eyes* Of course you do, we’re awesome!_

_-Annoying human: We love you too._

-o-o-

 

Stiles’ birthday was fast approaching, and Derek was sure he had found the perfect gift for him. He had wanted something thoughtful and it was just so obvious he grinned to himself when the idea came to him. Stiles had paid a lot of money to have his jeep professionally restored a few years back and that had included a stereo system that read cassette tapes. Stiles had insisted that things be done old school and he had found a company that fabricated systems that were both at the fine point of technology but had the vintage vibe of the original that would have been installed in the vehicle. The only problem was that no one had cassettes anymore and he had a hard time finding music he liked on the used market.

 

Derek had thus embarked on a quest to find a way to have some of Stiles favorites recorded on cassettes. The whole endeavour had been complicated but, with a little help, he had managed to get it done. Scott had been enlisted to find out which bands and albums Stiles liked, and Danny was mandated with figuring out the technical side of things. Danny eventually found a studio that had the equipment to transfer the music to tapes and Derek bought a dozen of them. They were shipped a few days prior to the event, and he had left them with the Sheriff so he could give the gift bag to Stiles when they met for his birthday dinner.

 

 

Late in the evening of Stiles birthday a car drove by the loft with the music so loud he felt the vibrations through the floor. He walked to the window and peered out to see what the ruckus was about when his phone pinged with an incoming message. He unlocked it to a text from Stiles.

 

_-Annoying human: Best birthday gift ever! Thank you so much!_

 

He looked out to see the familiar blue jeep, without it’s hardtop, parked on the street. Stiles was standing on the seat with both arms up in the air in the classic “winner’s” pose, his face split in two with a toothy grin. He smiled back and typed a reply. 

 

_-Sourwolf: You are welcome. I’m happy you like it._

_-Annoying human: I really really do! Thanks again. Talk to you later._

He watched as the young man dropped on his seat, turned the volume down and drove away. He stayed at the window until the jeep disappeared, a soft expression on his face.

 

-o-o-

 

Derek had a lot of free time and he often found himself bored.  He would sometimes occupy himself by baking up a storm which resulted in him having excessively large amounts of cookies and brownies, pies and muffins. He would then make the rounds, dropping his extras with whomever was home when he came knocking. He always started by visiting the Sheriff, leaving him a double portion of food to share with his son. The man was happy sneaking the treats in his diet but by the fifth time he showed up, he smirked knowingly.

 

The Sheriff commented that he’d noticed they were Stiles favorites and continued by stating that he should just stop giving his son his space and ask him out already.

 

Face flaming, he sputtered that he would do so when Stiles showed open-mindedness and made it clear he was interested. Which was presently not the case. The Sheriff sat back in his chair and chewed on a brownie, his stare boring holes in his flimsy excuse. He bade him farewell and fled to the man’s amusement.  

 

 

-o-o-

 

Christmas season rolled in and the pack decided to organise the obligatory gift exchange. He hesitated, not sure he wanted to take part, but Isaac harassed him until he folded and agreed. Everyone, minus Stiles, gathered at his place on a Friday to pick out their secret Santa. He questioned how they’d make it work so that the human could participate, and Scott said he’d put a name in a sealed envelope which he’d then give to him. It was a good plan and they prepared their slips of paper, all taking turns pulling one out of a bowl until he was the last one to go and, as luck would have it, he got Lydia.

 

Everyone snickered and poked fun at each other, dropping hints and trying to figure out who got who. Smiling at their shenanigans, he slinked into the kitchen, hiding his disappointment in not getting Stiles’ name by pretending to check on the roast that was slowly cooking. Cora followed a few minutes later, grabbed a soda from the refrigerator then sidled up to him, slung an arm around his waist in a side hug while the fingers of her other hand dug into the front pocket of his jeans to fish out the paper he’d stuck in there. She then shoved something back in, kissed his cheek and left with a conspiratorial smirk.

 

He stared at her back, hastily pulling out the crumpled piece of paper. His eyes grew large as he read the name, battling with his treacherous body to keep his heart rate low before someone came to check on him. Somehow Cora knew (she probably had smelled his regret), and she’d surreptitiously exchanged their secret Santa’s so that he now had Stiles.

 

Putting on a poker face he went through the rest of the evening, exchanging good natured teasing and ribbing with his pack and generally having a good time. Once everyone had left, he let himself be excited by the prospect of finding another perfect present for his human and started planning. Back around Stiles’ birthday he had toyed with the idea of giving him a personalized photo album. Few people knew that he had taken college level photography classes and that he used his camera phone to take a large number of pictures, sometimes inconspicuously, of everyone dear to him. His laptop was loaded with an editing software which he used considerably, and he now had many folders of great photographs stored on his hard drive. They had lost everything in the Hale fire and although he could not get the past back, he could to replace it with new memories.    

 

Making himself comfortable on the couch he booted the computer up and pulled out the latest file he had downloaded. He spent a few hours looking through hundreds of photos, selecting the best ones and playing with different options and filters. He stopped his choice on black and white as the contrast was more dramatic and better depicted how he saw Stiles. There were many photos of him smiling or laughing with his head thrown back, some where he was chewing a pen as he concentrated on something work related, others where he was lost in thoughts, his eyes unfocused. They were all depictions of who Stiles was in his purest expressions, all versions of the man he had fallen in love with. Once he had made his final selection, he emailed them to a local store to have them printed. They would be ready later that week, which gave him ample time to go buy an album and put it together.

 

 

 

On December twenty third the pack gathered in his loft for brunch and the actual gift exchange. Once again Stiles was not attending, but Derek had come to expect his absence. Everyone was in good spirits; the food was delicious, and they all seemed happy with their presents. It felt like family, just like in his memories and it warmed him enough that he actually made a heartfelt speech about it, drawing tears from Cora and Boyd (he did see Jackson wipe his eyes too) and emotional smiles from the others.

 

Later that afternoon he drove to the Stilinski residence, low grade nervousness coursing through his body, but mind at peace. The Sheriff’s cruiser was parked besides Stiles’ jeep and he felt slightly anxious at the sight, knowing that the man had figured him out a while ago and wondering if he’d told his son that the local Alpha had feelings for him. Steeling himself, now was not the time to let gloom and dread scare him away, he shifted the car in park, grabbed the brightly coloured parcel from the passenger seat and made his way to the door.

 

He knocked a few times and heard a yelled “I got it!” before the door opened, revealing Stiles, surprised etched on his face and still in his pajamas. The young man smiled, his scent faintly embarrassed as he broke the silence, “Derek! Hi.” He stood awkwardly in the doorway and Derek liked how adorable it made him look. His own smile was genuine as he presented the gift to him.        

 

“Hi. So, uhm… I’m your secret Santa and I just came by to drop this for you. I hope you like it.” Stiles grabbed the package and grinned at the garish superheroes covering the paper. “Cool, I wondered who’d picked me. Thank you!” Relief settled over him at Stiles reception and although he wanted to stay a bit longer, he nodded, “Merry Christmas, Stiles”, and turned to walk back to the Camaro. He was halfway down the pathway when Stiles voice rang from the front porch. “Merry Christmas to you too!” 

 

He opened his door and waved before getting in, happiness flooding his nerve endings at the grin still clearly plastered on Stiles’ face.   


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles was hugging the parcel to his chest as he entered the kitchen. He paid no attention to his dad who was stirring a pot of tomato sauce as he grabbed scissors from the drawer to cut the ribbon off, then proceeded to remove the paper. Puzzlement showed on his face as he upended what was clearly an album, opening it to the first page to find an eight by ten photo of himself rendered in black and white. He flipped through the pages, gasping loudly when his face stared out at him on each of them.

 

Sinking in the nearest chair, he returned to the first page, heart beating a mile a minute as he slowly examined each photo. He felt his father stand behind him, then the weight of his large hands squeezing his shoulders. The Sheriff’s gruffly awed voice broke the sudden silence, “Stiles… these are amazing.” He reached over his shoulder to flip a page. “Kiddo, that man is clearly in love with you. It is apparent in every one of these photographs.”

 

Stiles looked up from the book, amber eyes wide with shock. “I think it’s time that you let the anger go. It's time for you to recognize that what you're feeling is fear. You haven't been truly angry at Derek for a while now, and what anger is left is generated because you're scared of the feelings you have for him. You are terrified that you will be rejected once more, and I get that, but you have to start moving forward and leave what happened behind.” He cocked a hip and bumped his shoulder. “In your place I’d get dressed nicely and I’d make my way over to his apartment, get a few things cleared out, then I’d kiss the breath out of him to make up for lost time. Maybe not in that order either.”

 

He blanched when he realized the truth in his father's words and his hands shook as he carded his fingers in his hair, trying to ground himself by pulling on the strands. A tissue appeared in front of his face and he realized Derek had made him cry again but for very different reasons this time. He laughed through his tears, a bit overwhelmed with the turn of events, and blew his nose with the offered tissue. Taking a deep breath, he rose and hugged his dad, the warmth of his arms steady and reassuring. They embraced for long minutes then he scrambled, running out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bathroom, the booming laugh of his father echoing in the house.

 

 

 

After taking the quickest shower of his life he dressed up carefully, choosing his business attire over the more casual jeans and t-shirt he usually wore. He opted for black slacks and a grey button-down which Lydia had vowed brought out his eyes and hoped it conveyed his seriousness. He was so nervous he had the impression he was sweating buckets and his dad had to talk him down from the panic attack he could feel crawling up from his core. Once his head had cleared and his resolve had been shored up with a fatherly pep talk, he got into his jeep and anxiously drove to Derek’s apartment. The silence in the car was driving him nuts so he turned the radio on and sang at the top of his lungs, distracting himself from the many scenarios flitting through his mind.

 

The fifteen-minute drive passed in the blink of an eye and he soon found himself standing before the large metal door of the loft. He did a few deep breathing exercises to try and calm the edgy energy buzzing through his nerves when the door suddenly opened before he had the chance to knock. Stupid Werewolf senses. Derek had obviously heard the crazy patter of his heart from the parking lot. They stood staring at each other, the Alpha inquisitively and Stiles, well he supposed he probably looked like a deer in headlights.

 

“Derek. I-I want to,“ he started, but his mind stalled with too many words needing to be said. He tried again, “I need to - _fuck!”_ he expelled frustratingly. ”This is fucking ridiculous! I’m so far passed being stressed I’m not even able to flail anymore!” Derek smiled awkwardly and moved to the side, gesturing for him to enter, sliding the door closed once he did. He inhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down so he could say what he came for.    

 

“I’m sorry. I’m tired of being angry, of being scared, of rejection. I miss you and I’m sorry!” The words rushed out in a jumble as he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Derek’s reaction. He grimaced at the lack of response and cracked an eye open to find the Alpha looking at him with what looked suspiciously like amused fondness. He opened the other eye, feeling himself flush as he scratched the back of his head. 

 

“I looked at all the photos. You managed to make me look beautiful.” He spoke to the floor, too sheepish to look at Derek because _what if he was wrong?_ No one had ever made him feel beautiful except his parents and he did not want to face Derek’s rebuffal. “Stiles?” Derek spoke softly, making him meet the Alpha’s gaze. “You’ve always been beautiful. I just captured it on film so I could show you what I see every time I look at you.”

 

His vision blurred as Derek’s words sank in, his chest constricted, and he burst into tears, the pent-up emotions submerging him and leaving him a sobbing mess. Derek made a distraught sound and took a step nearer, closing the gap between them and getting into his personal space so he could gently cradle his face in his palms, wiping his tears with soft strokes of his thumbs. Stiles melted. There was no other way to describe how limp his body felt once the accumulated tension drained. He leaned into Derek, hands fisting in the fabric of his Henley as he found solace in the one person he never thought he could.

 

Derek held him, drawing circles on his back in soothing movements, murmuring quietly and rubbing his chin on his hair. They stood that way until Stiles’ tears had stopped and his breathing returned to normal. He let the Alpha lead him to the couch where he laid with his head in Derek’s lap. He slumped against his warmth, utterly drained but oddly at peace with himself as Derek’s deft fingers ran through his hair, massaging his scalp and lulling him into sleep.  


	12. Chapter 12

Derek ran his fingers through the silky strands of Stiles’ hair while he slept. He took the time to map out the moles dotting the skin of his cheek, noticing how long his lashes were and the contrast they made against his pale skin. He traced the bow of his upper lip with his eyes and ran the tip of his index finger along the curve of his eyebrow. His wolf rumbled with contentment and he let himself savor the closeness. It felt right, if only for the short moment it might last.

 

He knew they had much to discuss and he had to make amends for how he had made Stiles feel unwanted and rejected when the truth was that he wanted nothing more than to cherish him. He breathed deeply, letting Stiles’ distinct scent coat and permeate all the recesses of his sinuses until he could smell nothing else. He was relieved that Stiles had understood what he wanted to convey with his photographs. An image was sometimes worth a thousand words and, considering how bad he was at stringing words into sentences, he thanked whomever was that gifted him with an innate talent for photography.

 

There were still moments when guilt drowned him, but he was working on not letting the emotion guide his actions. It was an ongoing process, but the therapy was helping. His feelings for the man in his arms had slowly grown, until one day it took him completely by surprise when he realized he valued his opinion and insight into pack matters more than he did the actual views of the wolves it was comprised of. That had unfortunately been the point where their relationship suffered a break, all because he was unable to overcome the panic induced numbness caused by him loving the spastic human.

 

He sighed, pulling himself out of his head. There was no use rehashing the past and he vowed he’d straighten himself out because Stiles was worth every damned discomfort life might throw at him. Now he just had to make said human believe it. Stiles twitched and he watched with rapt attention as a snuffling sound escaped from his parted lips and his face scrunched up while he adjusted his limbs. He smiled at the cuteness and wondered if Stiles would blush if he teased him with it. He waited a few minutes until Stiles settled again and slowly extricated himself from under the human’s dead weight, placing a pillow under his head so he could continue sleeping.

 

Once free, he made his way to the kitchen and rummaged absently through the cupboard, thinking about what he could prepare for diner. His stomach was rumbling, and he’d bet Stiles’ would too once he awoke, so he took stock of what he had in the refrigerator and started taking out meat and vegetables and set himself to the task.

 

-o-o-

 

The smell of meat cooking pulled him slowly out of his slumber, and he stretched, popping his back and yawning as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Although there was a familiarity to the noises, something was off, and it took a moment for it to register that he was not home. He shot up, slightly disoriented, swinging his legs to the floor the moment everything came rushing back. He scanned the room wildly, locking eyes with Derek who was standing in front of the range stirring something in a wok. The Alpha smiled timidly, raised an eye brow quizzically then returned his attention to the food.

 

Huh. Okay, so he obviously fell asleep and, judging by the darkness outside, he’d been out for a few hours. He rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands and got up slowly, following his nose to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway feeling uncomfortable for all of thirty-four seconds then shook himself and started to set the table, pulling out cutlery and plates from the cabinet. Derek eventually served the meal and they sat down, eating in what he considered a slightly tense but companionable silence. He knew this could not go on, he was the one who came here uninvited and unannounced after all, and it fell on him to break the quietness. 

 

He got up and gathered the dirty dishes, dropping them in the sink to wash them. He was wondering what to say when Derek sidled up to him and started to dry and put things away. “Can I… I need to ask you something.” He glanced at the Alpha sideways, nodding in assent. “I’d like to court you.“ He couldn’t stop the snort that escaped, earning him a glare from Derek. He mimed zipping his mouth shut and motioned for Derek to continue. Which he did with pinking cheeks and an adorable pout. “Well…uh,” he shuffled a bit in embarrassment, “my wolf has been clamoring for the mating ritual, but….ah… yeah, that’s an explanation for another time.” He frowned a bit, wringing out the dish towel nervously. “I’d like to take you out. On a date. If that’s something you’d agree to?” The sincerity in Derek’s hazel eyes conveyed an equal measure of hope and hesitation and it flooded him with warmth. “Yeah. I’d like that.” Derek’s smile was blinding, crinkling his eyes and illuminating his whole face.

 

They made short work of cleaning up the kitchen then returned to the living room where he settled on the couch, sitting with his back to the armrest in a half Indian style pose, one leg bent at the knee and the other extended along the back. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest like an armor plate. Derek sat on the opposite side, mirroring him. They both had a foot almost touching the other’s folded leg and Stiles wondered if the Alpha was conscious of what his body language was revealing.    

 

There was a short awkward pause before they both giggled, breaking the tension. He still didn’t know what to say so he started with that. “I don’t know what to do from this point on, so I’ll just do what I do best and just blurt things out.” Derek’s expression of mock horror was almost comical, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation. Grasping the pillow tighter to himself he moved his leg and nudged Derek’s knee with his toes. “How long have you – I mean… why didn’t you say anything?”


	13. Chapter 13

Derek shrugged sheepishly, the fact that he didn’t know where to begin either was surely written all over his face. “It’s like a ten steps program gone wrong. I had all this shit to sift through. At first, I didn’t know how to deal with the panic I felt once I figured out what my feelings were,” he plucked at the frayed hem of his jeans, lost in the memories. “I came to terms with everything within half a dozen sessions with the shrink but then I had to deal with the clusterfuck I created with you.” When he looked up his eyes were charged with regret. “I was and am still ashamed with how I treated you and it hangs heavy in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know how to fix it, _hell_ ,” he laughed self deprecatingly, “I didn’t even know if anything was fixable at that point and that was the scariest thing to realize. The possibility that you might not have wanted to speak to me ever again was petrifying.”

 

Stiles foot was still pressed against his leg and he wrapped his hand around the slim ankle, the solidity of his flesh and bones grounding him. “I really didn’t like it when you disappeared, my wolf was constantly whining, anxious and unsettled. It left us feeling unmoored.  I respected your need for space for as long as possible, but I eventually caved in and called your dad. We had a long talk over lunch, and he helped put things in perspective. He has great insight and really weird ideas.” Stiles’ grin was lopsided as he snorted. “I bet he did. What did he come up with this time?”

 

Derek smiled fondly as he remembered all the suggestions the Sheriff had come up with. “The list was quite long and it’s obvious he knows you well. He looked at me all serious and stern and said two words: Chocolate Fountain. Capitalized. And he insisted, adding that I needed to buy a mountain of bananas and strawberries to go with it.” Stiles’ mouth was hanging open, eyes sparkling as he stared disbelievingly at him. “Are you kidding?  That’s genius! I can’t believe I never thought of that!” It was his turn to snort, amused by the human’s reaction. “What? My dad has amazing ideas!”

 

He laughed, fingers gently squeezing the ankle still circled by his hand. “He does. His best idea was when he accepted to break the father/son bond you have and gave me uncle Mike’s address. He saw right through me and told me he was doing it because he knew I loved you. Even back then, when I didn’t recognize it myself, he just knew.” They searched each other’s eyes for a few heart beats, admitting that the emotion was real, that it had swelled and grown until they felt submerged by the enormity of the sentiment.

 

Stiles pulled on his leg and he let go of it, disappointed at the loss of contact but eyes widening when the human knee walked towards him. He straightened his legs as Stiles pulled the cushion out of his arms and threw it over the backrest, straddled his thighs and settled himself in his lap. Blood rushed to his head as Stiles braced himself with a hand on his shoulder, an impish twinkle in his eyes as he stared at him. “Is this okay?” He nodded, slightly dazed and unable to talk as his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The smile that graced Stiles’ face did not bode well for his peace of mind.

 

Nimble fingers skimmed along the tendons in his neck then creeped up to tangle in his hair, Stiles’ face moving closer, tentatively brushing lips in a light kiss. He then touched the tip of his nose against the soft skin behind his ear, the gesture clearly done to scent mark him. He nosed along the hinge of his jaw, down to the junction where his neck met his shoulder, the littles huffs of warm breath he exhaled tickling his oversensitive skin. Stiles was well aware of the message he was conveying by doing so and he felt his wolf preen at the attention. The human settled against his chest, half of his face smushed in the curve of his neck and an arm thrown across his waist. He breathed deeply, the sweet scent of the younger man coating his sinuses, the taste heavy on his tongue and permeating every pore of his body. Although his mother had not had the time to partake with all her werewolf wisdom, Derek was no fool. He’d come to realize that Stile had taken too much space in his head, his heart, for him to be only considered boyfriend material.

 

He was undeniably his mate, a fact that his wolf had been making a lot of noise about in the last few months, his litany of _mate home_ _mine_ a clear indicator of what Stiles had come to mean to both of them. Forcing himself to relax he wiggled deeper in the couch cushions and hugged Stiles to himself, his wolf purring in contentment, the sound rumbling in his chest. Stiles sighed, smelling light and happy and relieved and he noticed that the tinge of hurt and uncertainty that had masked his scent for so long was no longer present. He smiled against Stiles hair and rubbed his cheek along the soft strands, marking him in turn.  They fell asleep in that position, warm and safe and most of all _wanted_.


	14. Chapter 14

The morning light filtered through the large windows and bathed the room in soft yellow, slowly pulling Stiles’ from his slumber. He smacked his lips and tried to turn but the band around his waist restrained him from doing so. He frowned and tried to move again but got his side pinched for his effort. “Stop movin’. ‘s too early to get up” Derek grumbled somewhere over his head. He shimmied, arranging his long limbs in a more comfortable position and snuggled against Derek’s warm body. They lolled in the space between sleep and wakefulness for a while longer, until Derek eventually had to extricate himself from Stiles’ octopus clutch to go empty his bladder. The human complained but soon followed when the matter of his own need to pee became pressing.

 

Derek was rummaging in the refrigerator by the time Stiles made his way to the kitchen. The alpha slammed the door close, bemoaning the fact that there was nothing to eat and turned to look at his mate.  They stared at each other with soft hesitant smiles and Derek stepped into Stiles personal space, embracing him in what felt like a full body hug, scenting the warm skin below his ear as a low growl of satisfaction reverberated against his ribcage. He drew back once he’d sniffed his fill, eyes happy and a smug, satisfied grin firmly in place on his handsome face.  Stiles’ stomach chose that moment to make it known that he was in dire need of sustenance and Derek was transfixed by the blush that crept up the young man’s neck until it reached his hairline.    

 

Derek laughed at the look of mortification on Stiles’ features. “What do you say we go out for brunch?” The human nodded emphatically, then grimaced when he looked down at the rumpled state of his clothing. “I need a quick shower, and could I maybe borrow a t-shirt?“ Derek bobbed his head, dragging Stiles behind him on his way to the bathroom. “Get in but make it quick. I need to get clean too and I don’t want to be stuck with no hot water.  I’ll leave something on the counter so you can change. “

 

 

They were sitting in a booth in the diner two block down from the loft less than thirty minutes later, a hot cup of coffee in front of them while they were waiting for their meals to arrive. Stiles’ shin was pressed against Derek’s, the contact settling him. They talked about everything and nothing, eyes locked on the other as though they could not believe they were actually doing this, as though the other would disappear if they looked away. They ate slowly once their plates arrived, not in any rush to move from the bubble they had created around themselves. They talked some more, making plans for their second and third and fifteenth date and suddenly Derek went silent, eyes wide with surprise. Stiles leaned forward, an eyebrow raised questioningly. “What? What’s wrong?” The Alpha shook his head to clear his mind, a brilliant smile illuminating his face and crinkling his eyes. “Nothing! Nothing is wrong but everything is suddenly just _so_ right. I’m – I’m happy. Like, really _really happy_ ” Stiles scrambled up unexpectedly, jarring the table and everything on it as he grasped a handful of his t-shirt and leaned in to kiss him, stealing his breath away and making his wolf yip in approval.    

 

-o-o-

 

That morning had been pivotal, marking a change and redefining their relationship. They became inseparable and, according to Kira, disgustingly cute although Scott said they were just plain disgusting which earned him a slap behind the head and a noogie.  In the beginning Stiles was hesitant to move too fast but Derek’s gentle persistence wore him down. They slowly started leaving personal items at each other’s place, tooth brushes and books, sweaters and movies, all this leading to them having a drawer dedicated to their stuff in each other’s dressers.       

 

They went on dates, did many different activities and had numerous occasions for them to learn and discover what made the other tick. For their one-month anniversary Derek surprised Stiles with a four-day weekend in San Francisco. He surprised him a second time when uncle Mike met them for dinner at a swanky restaurant. The man surprised them both by footing the bill and announcing that he’d changed his will and his nephew was to inherit the bulk of his assets upon his death. Stiles was shocked silent which had both older men cackling at the rare occurrence.

 

That weekend passed in a blur. They visited the Museum of modern art where they pretended to understand the deeper meaning of ridiculous art, spent an afternoon at Fisherman’s wharf where they ate their fill of sea food (“ _No Derek, I will not eat clams, they are disgusting and slimy and just, no_!”). They went on a cable car ride and had a picnic at Golden Gate Park and managed to cram as many tourist attractions as possible in the few days they had. They returned home with sun kissed cheeks and their bond strengthened.

 

-o-o-

 

The long days of summer brought heat and warmth and they adopted a lazier and slower rhythm, pacing their outings with the weather. July fourth brought everyone together for the town’s fair and Stiles once again managed to get in trouble when he tried manipulating and cajoling his wolf into breaking the law. _(“No Stiles! We will not buy fireworks and launch them from the back yard! Do you know how dangerous that is? I don’t care that it’s July 4 th, your dad would kill me!”_)  Fortunately, the Sheriff happened to hear about his son’s shenanigans and put a stop to everything before he could motivate himself to go on with his awesome plan.

 

There were evenings spent at the drive-in and afternoon games of mini-golf, visits to the hotdog vendor on the corner of Main Street followed by ice creams at the parlor in front of the park where they would people watch while eating their frozen treats. They had BBQ’s with the Sheriff every Sundays and sometimes, when the late afternoon had given way to twilight, they would sit on the Stilinski back porch and just relax to the sound of the cicadas and the ballet of fireflies.

 

On hotter days they would spend long hours in the cooler air of the Preserve, idling in the shade of the forest and swimming in the crystalline water of the pond hidden deep in Hale land. They had sex for the first time on such a day, bodies chilled and spirits free. Stiles had leaned in for a kiss, pushing Derek to his back on the soft towels and had slowly devoured his partner inch by inch until they lost their minds to just _feeling_. 

 

That marked another change in their relationship, freeing them to the joys of PDA and opening the door to tactility. They were never far from one another, always gravitating close, touching, scenting, marking. Derek reveled in the sensations as his wolf basked in the rightness of _home_ and _mate_ and _love_.

 

-o-o-

When autumn arrived, they took a trip to Quebec to see the change of colours and let themselves be enchanted by the language, the rhythm of life in Montreal and its surroundings.

They booked a room in a small inn in the Eastern Townships and were seated in the restaurant for diner when Stiles complained that Derek needed to stop paying for everything. The Wolf had in replied “ _This is me courting you. I will damn well spend my money in any way I see fit. I’m loaded, get used to it. I’m making sure you’re taken care of and spoiled_.” The human had blushed, mumbling “ _I can pay my own way but okay, sure, it’s your money_ ” and Derek had nodded sharply, pleased that the matter was settled then had promptly placed their order in impeccable French. Stiles’ imitation of a fish out of water had pulled a grin out of the Alpha, then said Alpha’s eyes had darkened when his mate’s scent changed, overlaid with arousal as the human whisper-blurted ” _That’s so fucking sexy"._   

 

They took their time eating but did not linger longer than necessary in the dining room, leaving as soon as the check was paid. They stumbled in the hallways on the way to their room, pulling each other and stopping to kiss between a groaned “ _Fuck! I want you_.” and a whimpered “ _Hurry, Derek. Hurry_.”  The moment the door closed behind them Stiles pushed his man against it as he dropped to his knees, fingers hastily unzipping Derek’s pants and licking a stripe up his dick the second it sprang loose from its confines.    

 

-o-o-

 

The Christmas season came next and they entered its frenzy with knowing hearts, planning and preparing a rather extravagant event for their friends and family (“ _What the fuck Stiles? How the hell are we supposed to fit and decorate a fifteen feet tree? I have barely enough stuff for a three-footer_!” _“Don’t worry Doubtywolf, I found the perfect stand and I’ve placed at least seven online orders. I got us covered!”)_

Derek had sulked solidly for a few days. His resolve broke as Stiles’ joy and delight grew with every shinny and sparkly ornament he unpacked from the numerous deliveries and he slowly got onboard with the festivities. They spent a fortune on trinkets and knickknacks and decorated every inch of the loft, spent even more money on gifts for every pack member and planned the homiest, most outlandish menu they could come up with.   

 

Everything was all set and ready to go by December twenty-third, so they took the day to laze, watching movies, snuggling in their pajamas before the whirlwind of Christmas Eve hit them. They had agreed on exchanging gifts early, only the two of them and Stiles sneakily left Derek’s on the counter while the wolf was finishing up their diner dishes and slipped away to hide in the bathroom.  


	15. Chapter 15

Stiles’ off-key singing had him shaking his head in amusement, the fact that the human could not carry a tune clearly did not deter him from belting one out every time he took a shower. He noticed the parcel sitting on the counter as he was hanging the wet dishtowel and he smiled at the lurid paper and the ridiculously huge bow. Flipping the lights off, he took the gift and went to sit on the couch. He knew that Stiles leaving the gift behind and disappearing meant he did not want to be present when he unwrapped it, so he tore into the paper and opened the box.  

 

The first thing he saw was a post-it stuck to a folded sheet of paper stating “Read this first” in Stiles’ surprisingly neat handwriting. He unfolded the page and studiously scanned every word.

 

_Derek,_

_We’ve come full circle. At this time last year, I was crying over those photographs of me and I can’t believe how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown with you at my side. I’ve always known who I was deep down, but I lacked the confidence, the assurance to just be me. For many years I felt like I did not belong, like my place would always be on the sidelines looking in, always a spectator._

_Those photos made me realize that the way I saw myself was skewed, that I was more than the spastic, ADHD riddled son of the Sheriff. I am my own person and my father’s shadow does not have to hide me. I think you’ve always seen me, the person that I used to keep hidden, even when you were gruff and angry and hated the world. We needed each other, even back then. I softened your rough edges and you defined my blurry ones. We complete each other in a way that no one could have foreseen, and I am grateful for that because we were able to learn and grow and make mistakes without an audience._

_Some days, when I’m lost in my head, I am still surprised by the way you look at me, with how well we fit in each other’s spaces, how you care and support me without asking anything in return. I hope that you know, that I show you well enough, how deeply in love with you I am._

_You are my sun, my moon, my truth_

_Love, S._

_P.S. you can check the box now._

 

-o-o-

 

He knew he was acting cowardly by staying in the bathroom longer than necessary, but he was nervous. Derek had a habit of isolating himself when he felt emotional, when something got to him deeply and he wanted to give him some space so he could parse through whatever feelings his gift would generate. The door was ajar, and he heard the ripping of the wrapping paper, the short silence as Derek was reading his letter then the choked sob indicating he’d gotten to the second part. He shuffled quietly towards the living room, knowing that whatever happened next would be life changing.

 

-o-o-    

 

He blinked the tears from his eyes, smiling stupidly as he wiped his wet cheeks with his sleeve. Stiles’ letter filled him with a surge of love that had him floundering, hating how disorganized his emotions left him feeling. He’d had no doubt about Stiles loving him, but this cemented the knowledge, unequivocally confirming that they were both “it” for the other.  He set the page next to him and rummaged through the dark blue tissue paper to find a plastic object nestled within. He blinked owlishly at it and felt his chest constricting, his brain scrambling to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. 

 

He felt his mate’s presence more than he saw him and drew his gaze from the positive pregnancy test in his hand to find him hovering anxiously a few feet away, hands wringing in the hem of his hoodie. He leapt up, a snorted laugh escaping his throat and he stood staring indecisively for a fraction of a second then burst in movement, taking the few steps needed to meet Stiles where he was still rooted in place.   

 

Dropping to his knees, he pushed his face into Stiles’ abdomen and embraced his lithe body, tears falling anew. Stiles’ long fingers carded through his hair and he felt him release a shuddering breath. They stayed in that position until his knees ached, and his breathing was somewhat under control. Eventually he looked up to meet his mate’s warm honey gaze and his fond smile, his own face was awash with his own tears of joy and relief. Stiles pulled him up and rubbed his cheek to scent mark him then cradled his face between hands that were still trembling and kissed the breath out of him.

 

He felt his face contort and a chuckle spilled from deep within, the sound surprising in the aftermath of Stiles big reveal. He tried, he really tried to not guffaw, but he lost his composure and laughed so hard his cheeks hurt. Stiles was looking at him bemusedly, a small smile hovering uncertainly on his features. He held up a finger, urging him to hold on a moment and jogged to the bedroom, still cackling. He reappeared a moment later with his bitch face on and a small dark blue velvet box in his hand.

 

Stiles eyes went comically wide with shock as he went down on one knee yet again. “You have no idea how surreal this is right now. I was so confident that you couldn’t top my gift, but you managed to outdo me with the only thing that actually could trump a proposal.” He sobered up slightly, a smile still clinging to his lips as he flipped the lid of the box to reveal a white gold band engraved with black markings. “Stiles Stilinski, would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

 

-o-o-

 

After he had squealed and hopped around and had fist pumped, he had said yes ( _Of course I’m saying yes! Are you nuts? There is no way I’d ever say no!_ ) Once they were both done crying and laughing and hugging, they settled on their bed in a tangle of limbs. He kept sticking his hand up in the air and staring at his ring in wonder, enjoying how the light glinted of the silvery surface. Derek was nuzzling in the curve of his neck, all warm and sleepy, his large hand slayed protectively over his abdomen and he sighed in contentment.    

 

Carding spindly fingers in the soft mass of his fiancé’s hair ( _Oh my god! I can now call you Fiancéwolf!_ ), he burrowed deeper in his embrace, dropping butterfly kisses on his head and mumbled, “I’m so incredibly happy but so damn scared at the same time. I can’t shut my brain off.” He was quiet for a few minutes then shot straight up, panic clawing in his gut, wailing, “Derek? I can’t do this! I know nothing about raising children! This is bad, this is _so_ bad!”

 

Derek propped himself on an elbow, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and tugged until he could kiss him senseless. Which, yeah. Having a tongue shoved down his throat always did wonders for his nerves. He whined and as usual went boneless as he slumped forward into Derek’s larger frame. “Babe, calm down. We’ll figure it out. Together. We have friends and family to help us along the way. We got this.”

 

He snorted a bit disbelievingly. “I trust you but if we fuck up it’s all on you dude! I’m going on record with this. I have no clue about anything, and it’ll all be your fault because you convinced me we could do this.” Derek was looking at him with that expression, the one that meant he was an imbecile, but he liked him anyway and it grounded him. Derek laid back and hauled until he was sprawled half over his chest. He eventually fell asleep to the soothing rhythm of his mate’s heart in his ear.


	16. Chapter 16

Christmas had been a messy riot, and as expected, everyone had gone crazy when they made their double announcement. They celebrated new years in pretty much the same outlandish way, Peter having rented an entire upscale restaurant just for their pack. They counted down the minutes gazing into each others’ eyes and ushered the new year in by kissing and groping the other in a most inappropriate way.

 

-o-o-

 

Derek won Valentine’s day by planning a romantic extended getaway in a remote cabin in Oregon. Stiles had had no clue and had felt bad for not having at least a gift, but he’d redeemed himself by making his mate come in as many times, ways and positions he could manage. Derek later confessed he was proud to have been able to pull one on Stiles since he had upped him on Christmas. They had sex so many times that if the human wasn’t already knocked up, he most certainly would have been after that sexcapade.

 

-o-o-

 

Early March was their first visit with the Ob Gyn and assorted specialist. They were a bit nervous going into the appointment, but the doctor efficiently put their fears to rest by answering all their questions. They were unable to know the sex of the baby this early, but they both admitted to preferring having the surprise at birth. The physician seemed as excited as the future parents were and had printed so many photos of the first ultra-sound that he’d blushed bright red when he handed them out, explaining he himself was a male carrier and he was truly happy for them. Stiles had hugged him, and both pretended they did not have tear filled eyes when they separated.  

 

-o-o-

 

Easter was approaching and Stiles had Erica paint his baby belly like a colorful Easter egg. She then took pictures of him and they spent an afternoon selecting the best ones and photoshopping everything so he could make cards to give out. Derek rolled is eyes at the kitschiness of it all, but he secretly loved it.  The photos were given during Easter Diner and were received with mixed reactions.

 

The future parents did not give a damn, knowing full well that they would suffer the same fate when the second pack baby would arrive.

 

-o-o-

 

In late May Stiles bought a few baby names books and post-it flags and promptly started marking the names he liked. Derek came home one late afternoon to find him asleep in front of the tv, an open book balanced on his prominent belly and a blue flag stuck to his cheek. He took a photo and smiled softly at the swell of emotion that nearly bowled him over.

 

Later that evening they snuggled in the living room and talked about their ideas and preferences and Stiles managed to make the process somewhat ridiculous. He excitedly explained that had selected some names that were original and a few that were unisex, and Derek had been surprised at some of the choices. It all went south when his dumbass human proclaimed that he had the Perfect Name, capitals necessary.    

 

“Babe, I found it!!! I loooove the way it sounds with our surnames and I hope you agree because it’s my favorite!” and had shocked him speechless when he handed him a pad with the name _Hunter Stilinski-Hale_ written in bold and encircled with about a hundred little hearts.

 

He sat frozen for long minutes while Stiles fidgeted eagerly beside him, then slowly turned to face him. “Honey, I- I can’t… I can’t agree to this.” Stiles was about to argue but he stopped him by placing his hand over his mouth and asking pointedly, “Please. Think”, then waited the time it took for him to catch up. Stiles’ eyes grew comically wide when he realized, then blanched at what he had done. “Crap… I – I’m sorry. I did not think. I just really like how they all sound together.” He mulled it over than sank against the back rest, completely disconcerted.

 

Derek squeezed his knee and showed him his own choices. Arguing eventually ensued and, Stiles being a tad stubborn, it turned into a complete circus, the human debating his choices with flailing limbs _(“I guess you’d like and old man’s name like Egbert or Bertram!”_ ) and Derek vetoing them with his eyebrows of doom _(“Well that would be an improvement on HUNTER !!”_ )

 

Stiles had a preference for unisex names (” _I like non gender based names like MacKenzie or Grayson_ ”) while Derek favoured more gender typical names _(“Girls names need to be softer, like Sage, and boys can be masculine like Trevor or Kieran.”)_ which meant that they could not come to an agreement. Harsh words were eventually exchanged, and a door was slammed in indignation.

 

Derek refused to go to bed angry, so he coaxed Stiles out of his vexation by offering a back rub and cuddles. The human knew it was a stupid argument, but he just felt so emotional about it. He explained the need, the comfort that having the name settled before the baby arrived would bring him and Derek understood. They kissed and made up and fell asleep in a tangle of limbs once Stiles’ backrub request had been fulfilled.

 

There was no rush to choose a name right away, the baby was not due for another few months after all.

 

-o-o-

 

They eloped in June.

 

Stiles wanted an intimate and simple ceremony and he did what he did best by researching and planning and plotting. Derek had often mentioned wondering what it would be like to visit his ancestors’ land, to get knowledge from the original Hale pack and just feel the connection to his past. Stiles had organized everything and one evening had presented him with boarding passes to Scotland. Derek had first been speechless, then rapidly excited and overjoyed, picking him up and twirling them in circle a few times before remembering he was pregnant and setting him down. 

 

They spent their three weeks summer vacation visiting Glasgow and Edinburgh, touring the countryside and visiting old castle ruins, then stayed the last five days with the Robertson clan who were the direct descendants of Derek’s family.  Derek had spent the first few hours of meeting them being reverently quiet but Calum, as any good hosting Alpha would do, had brought out wolfsbane laced whisky and had quickly broken him out of his funk.

 

Before their departure Stiles had sneakily spent many hours exchanging emails and phone calls with Gemma, the Robertsons acting emissary. They secretly put together a traditional Celtic handfasting ceremony, the two becoming as thick as thieves in the process and had managed to iron out everything in a mater of days. With the help of her Alpha mate, the emissary had organised for the Clan to go on a night run in the nearby National Park. She stayed behind with Stiles ( _I’m pregnant Babe, I can’t go running!),_ a few human members and the youngest children and watched them leave from the parking lot. They waited until they could no longer hear their howls and excited yips then wrangled everyone and set out on foot for a short hike to the clearing that was the home of their own Nemeton.

 

They worked quickly, setting up blankets on the ground and hanging lanterns on low branches and they all settled to wait the return of the wolves. Once everything was completed Gemma pulled Stiles away and surprised him with a ceremonial linen tunic. The garment was soft and well cared for and had obviously been loved by many sparks before him. Runes ran along the hem, embroidered in silver thread and Stiles felt a shiver run along his spine at the contact of old magic. He quickly pulled off his polo and slipped it on over his head, shivering nervously at the implication of what would happen next. They heard the packs howls getting nearer, setting his nerves aflutter and Gemma leaned closer to press their foreheads together in a blessing.

There was a sudden commotion and shouts of cheer then the clearing fell silent once again. Stiles new that Calum had just told Derek why they had gathered in this location and that they were now preparing him for the ceremony. His anxiety instantly dissipated, leaving him grounded and at peace with the earth and he smiled at his new friend. They waited a few minutes before a young man whose name he had forgotten came to tell them they were ready, and he let Gemma pull him towards his mate.

 

He kept his eyes on the ground, wanting to keep the surprise until the very end, only meeting Derek’s awed gaze when he stopped in front of him. His jaw dropped at the sight of Calum and Derek’s garb, the red of the Robertson tartan kilt a complete shock to his system. They were both dressed in the traditional Highland dress, complete with jacket, waistcoat and sporran and his future husband had never looked more magnificent. Stiles had never even thought about the traditional evening wear and he looked at Gemma with wide grateful eyes. She kissed his cheek, whispered, “You’re welcome, lad”, and took a step to stand beside them.

 

She removed her shoes, inclining her head so that Stiles could follow suit, and they soon both stood barefoot and linked to the earth. Stiles felt his spark flare with magic, and he looked up, locking eyes with Derek’s Alpha red gaze.  The ceremony started gently, Gemma asking the goddess and the Nemeton for their blessing before instructing them to hold hands then recited the Binding of Hands ritual, draping the ribbons her husband handed her around their hands between each paragraph until she ultimately tied them in a knot.

 

There was a deep silence as they stared into each others’ eyes then Derek threw his head back and let loose a howl that echoed in the forest.  Calum’s booming laugh was heard before he too howled, followed closely by the other wolves. There was a tingling where the bond settled behind his breastbone and Stiles giggled with pure joy as Derek leaned in, kissing him deeply before their witnesses.

 

They returned home two days later, tired but happy, with new friendships and a renewed sense of family.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love men in kilts.   
> That being said, the Robertson tartan does exist and you can find it and the handfasting vows on google (I don't know how to imbed photos.....)


	17. Chapter 17

The one thing that no one had mentioned to Stiles was that Were babies did not gestate for 40 weeks like humans do. They develop slightly quicker and most pregnancies last around thirty-two weeks. Which means that Stiles was far from ready when the first contractions started nearly two months earlier than expected. He first thought that they were Braxton-Hicks, paid no mind to them and went on with his plans for the day only to realize that it was not his bladder that he’d been emptying for the last five minutes. The blooming panic attack was no surprise and he was glad he had his cell phone with him because he was losing his shit sitting on the toilet with his baby on the way.

 

His hands shook so much it took three attempts to unlock the screen and tap on Derek’s name. The wait to connect was interminable although it rang only four times before his mate answered. He did not reply to Derek’s greeting instead blurting in alarm, “The baby is coming!” then babbled nervously until Derek had to inject a bit of Alpha into his voice to make him snap out of it. “Stiles, you have to calm down and breathe. I’m on my way and I’ll be there soon. Where are you right now?”

 

He took a few strengthening breaths, closed his eyes tight for a heart beat, felt a sudden calmness flow in his veins then declared, “I can do this.” Derek chuckled, “Of course you can. Now tell me what’s going on.”  Derek stayed on the phone with him until he arrived home then promptly called the hospital to advise they would be arriving shortly. A team was waiting for them when they sailed through admission and he was whisked off to a private room until it was the time for the baby to be born.

 

Their baby boy was born the following morning at a little past eight, weighing almost 7 pounds and equipped with a healthy set of lungs. They bickered a bit about his name but eventually agreed on Kieran Midnight Stilinski-Hale which was masculine like Derek preferred but had a touch of Stiles’ whimsy. (They also secretly chose it because it was a strong Scottish name and midnight marked the hour they had completed their handfasting but they were not ready to divulge the details on that just yet.)  

 

They were released from the hospital within a few days and came home to a newly completed nursery. The pack had taken upon themselves to finish painting the room and assembling the crib when they learned that Derek had not had the time to complete the task. They had also organised an impromptu baby shower/welcome home party and everyone had argued on who would hold the baby. The Sheriff had been the first and he had cried tears of joy when he gazed at his grandson’s sleeping face, noting the slight upturn to his nose and his dark wispy hair.

 

-o-o-

 

The Sheriff casually broached the subject of them getting married in mid-September. They’d just finished eating dinner and he had retreated to the living room where he sat feeding Kieran a bottle. Derek came in from the kitchen and placed a cup of coffee in front of him before sitting down in the corner chair when he popped the question. “Have you given any thoughts to getting married?”    

 

Derek stared at him with a strange look on his face, one that clearly meant he was hiding something. He knew that expression too well, having seen a similar version on Stiles too many times. He sighed and sat forward to burp the baby. “Derek, spit it out. You’re not that adept at keeping a poker face.” The younger man shifted uncomfortably under scrutiny and he mumbled, “Uhm… maybe you should ask Stiles?”

 

He looked at his son’s partner and snorted derisively. “I’m no fool. You and I both know he’s gonna come up with a cockamamie explanation to evade the question. I’d much rather hear it from you, so start talking.” Derek’s annoyed huff had his lips curl slightly, but he had a lot more experience at this game and he kept a straight face, waiting him out. The Alpha’s voice dropped as he murmured, “We… ah… we kinda got married in Scotland...”  

 

He stilled and stared. Hard. He then picked up his cup of coffee, took a few sips from it and set it back down. He stared again as he rocked Kieran gently. To say that Derek squirmed was a euphemism. He was so twitchy he was almost as bad as Stiles could get under his scrutiny and it gave him great pleasure to see him flounder. He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow in a well practice move before speaking, “I see. Basically, you’re telling me that the ring on his finger is not and engagement token and you got hitched without me or any of us knowing?”

 

Dark splotches appeared along Derek’s cheeks as he fidgeted nervously but he did not break eye contact. Kieran snuffled in his arms and he looked down at his grand-son and smiled, gently running a fingertip along the soft skin of his cheek.  Stiles chose that moment to amble in from wherever he’d disappeared to earlier, snorted in annoyance and interrupted his fun. “Dad! Stop terrorizing my husband. We did a handfasting ceremony. It was romantic and shit, but we planned on having a big party with everyone eventually.” 

 

-o-o-

 

That is how they found themselves officially, and legally, getting married in their back yard the following April.  Derek had surprised him yet again by wearing a full traditional kilt that he’d had tailored to fit him. The previous one had been loaned and although it had been fine, it had not fit him as perfectly. Of course, Stiles had swooned when he’d made his way down the path, and instantly started planning the many ways they would use this newfound kink of his the moment they were alone. He really needed to find out if he was wearing underwear under there!

 

Derek’s eyes burned red when he saw Stiles. His husband rarely wore anything other than jeans and t-shirts so having him dressed in a form fitting gray tuxedo was something he very much approved of. He smiled when he noticed that his tie was made from the same plaid used for his kilt and he made a mental note to thank Lydia for having thought about that small detail. He was so engrossed by Stiles that he had not noticed his son standing at his mate’s side, a pudgy hand grabbing onto his pant leg until he was only a few feet away from them. The moment he did he lost his composure and cooed at his toddler, “Oh my god, that is the most adorable thing in the world! Baby boy, you’re so cute!”, then bent to pick him up as their friends and families laughter rang around them.  He looked in his husband’s eyes and knew from the pleased smile splitting his face that he was responsible for Kieran wearing his own mini kilt. Leaning in he kissed his lips softly, then ran his nose along his son’s soft cheek as he straightened and faced the celebrant.

 

The rite was done without preamble and they exchanged a more personal version of their first vows, then gifted each other brand new watches since they had already done the rings in Scotland. Unbeknown to the other, they both had had them engraved, Derek’s with Y _ou are my moon, my star, my truth_ and Stiles with _You are my everything_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini kilts are the cutest thing in the world!  
> Trust me, just google it!!


End file.
